


Some Brother

by coffeeandconspiracies



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-07
Updated: 2015-12-07
Packaged: 2018-05-05 09:57:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5371034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeeandconspiracies/pseuds/coffeeandconspiracies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: bill takes over ford and says a lot of things that absolutely wreck lee (bill knowing a lot about what lee went through the years knows all the right buttons to push) .Bringing a lot of suppresed feelings and breaking the mask that hides years of self hatred and depression. I would like for it to be that Lee doesn’t know about bill and thinks it’s ford that is saying all those truly hateful vicious soul destroying words.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Okay. Twenty minutes was understandable. An hour was something Ford would pull. Two hours was pushing it.  _Six_ hours was just not okay. 

“Soos,” Stan said, slamming the drawer to the register closed for the night. “Do me a favor and stick around for a couple minutes? I’d better go find Ford before it gets too dark.” 

“The other Mr. Pines still isn’t back?” Soos asked, surprised. Ford had announced to everyone he was going to go “check on something in the woods” (Dipper had begged to go along, of course, but to his and Stan’s surprise, Ford said no) an hour or so after lunch - now the sun was setting. 

Stan waved off Soos’ worried tone with a casual flip of his hand. “Knowing Ford, he probably got distracted chasing hobbits or something and lost track of time. I shouldn’t be long - Dipper and Mabel are in the living room.” 

“Yes, sir,” Soos said dutifully, disappearing behind the door which separated the house from the gift shop. 

Stan twirled his keys around his index finger, locked the door behind him, and pocketed them all in one swift motion. Turning towards the trees, he suddenly wished he’d remembered to bring a flashlight.

“Stanford?” he called out, taking a few steps forward. Which way had his brother even gone? 

Stan thought he saw something move to his left - he walked over, praying it was just his brother and not some horrible Gravity-Falls-nightmare that lurked in the woods at night. 

Luck, it appeared, was on his side.

“Ford! What are you doing out here?”

Stanford had been crouched down over a bush, apparently inspecting it, but at the sound of Stan’s voice his back straightened out instantly. His head turned towards Stan, but it took an uncomfortably long pause before his body followed. 

“Are you … feeling okay?” Stan asked. 

Ford smiled - a strange, un-Ford-ish smile - and chuckled lightly. “Better than ever! In fact, better than I have in thirty years.”

“Uh - huh. Okay. Well, I’m making mom’s lasagna recipe for supper so–”

“Do you know what it was  _like_ on the other side of that portal, Stanley?” Ford interrupted. That was weird - something was definitely off about him, but Stan couldn’t figure out what. He was acting … odd. Not at all like himself.

Stan folded his arms, stubborn to the last. “No, actually, I don’t. Because you won’t  _tell_ me.”

“Well, I’ll tell you  _this -_ it ain’t pretty! Oh man, the nightmares I still have - of course, I wouldn’t tell you about those either. About all the times I woke up down in the basement in a cold sweat, terrified that all of this -” Ford gestured around himself “-had been the dream, and I was still  _there._ You know that the portal doesn’t just lead to  _one_ other dimension, right? There are infinitely many - and each one more horrific than the last. I had completely given up hope I’d ever get rescued. I was so sure you had given up on me …”

Guilt washed over him instantly. Stan wasn’t quite sure what to say to that, so he remained silent. Ford didn’t seem to notice, and just picked up where he left off. “You did take your sweet time rebuilding that portal. Were there too many distractions in the town? Too many trips to Vegas? Too many nieces and nephews coming to stay?–”

“Ford, hey –” 

“Too many cons to pull, am I right? You were so busy scamming people sometimes you completely forgot about me.”

That struck a nerve. Not so much because it was true, but because the way Ford said it, Stan could tell he  _assumed_ it was true.  _That_ was just like Stanford - always assuming the worst in him …

“But deep down, you always knew the  _real_ reason you were trying to get me out is because even after all these years, you don’t know how to be your own person.”

“Ford, what are you even talking about?”

“I’m talking about you, brother!” Ford was still smiling that strange smile, and was it a trick of the light or were his eyes  _yellow_ instead of brown? “Our whole lives you’ve been nothing but the dumber, sweatier version of me! Without me around, you don’t know what to do - you can’t even be your own person, you had to take  _my_ name. Stanley Pines doesn’t exist anymore because he was too much of a codependent baby to deal with his own mistakes and grow as a person. No, he had to become someone else - to play the role of the brother he so desperately needed to lead him, even as an adult. Pathetic.”

Stan punched his brother in the jaw. Ford didn’t seem surprised - in fact, he appeared to have been anticipating it. He straightened right back out after it, quickly spitting some blood out on the ground. 

“You came close to knocking out a tooth that time - and I’ve always taken such good care of my teeth! That’s impressive Stan. You can almost do something right for once.”

Stan punched him again, this time hard on the side. “What are you  _doing,_ Stanford?”

“I’m just talking!” Ford insisted, somehow managing to smile wider. “That’s brothers do, don’t they? They talk things out - Dipper and Mabel talk things out - at least they used to. Poor kids, the man they put all their faith in turned out to be nothing but a huge liar - even to  _them,_ the kids he claims to love so much. It’s no wonder the little brats are starting to develop trust issues - they don’t know who they can believe.”

This time, Stan knocked him straight back down to the ground. 

Ford looked up at him, eyes wild and teeth still showing. “That’s what you do best, isn’t it? Stan Pines’ claim to fame - pushing the people he loves away! Dipper, Mabel, Mom, Dad,  _Carla_  - hell, even your own twin couldn’t stand to be around you after the first 18 years!”

“Shut up!” Stan got down on the ground over his brother and kept hitting him, the way they used to fist fight as kids - the only difference was that this time, Ford wasn’t fighting back. He was taking every punch and laughing about it, like nothing Stan did could hurt him. That just made Stan want to punch him  _harder_ , naturally. 

“He didn’t care that you were all alone those 10 years - he was glad to be rid of you! You were nothing but a leech all your lives - from the moment you were born all you could do was ride off your brother’s brain. You probably can’t even tie your own shoes.”

Stan was too angry to notice that Ford had started talking about himself in the third person - which, let’s be honest, is sort of a red flag. He punched his twin again.

“But, I guess at the end of the day, you were still brothers. After ten long years, you got that postcard. And what do you find? A broken brother in the midst of some kind of mental breakdown. And what did  _you do_ Stan Pines? You pushed him into a goddamn hell portal! You damned him to 30 years of suffering and pain! Ever wonder why he wears a sweater in the summer, huh? It’s too hide all the scars! Every bite, every bullet, every sword - and that’s just the external stuff. Boy, if these memories could speak …”

Ford had blood dripping from his mouth, his nose, and from various cuts on his face. The flesh of his stomach and rib-cage was beginning to turn blackish purple. But still, he kept talking. Kept  _taunting._

 _“_ Stanford what the hell’s the  _matter with  you?!”_  and that was when it dawned on him. This wasn’t Stanford. 

Stan jumped to his feet, his fists reforming instantly. “You must be that shape-shifter thing - I read about you! What the hell did you do with my brother?”

Not-Ford rose to his feet as well, only much slower and with much more grace. Almost as if he’d floated up from the ground. Now when Ford’s mouth moved, someone else’s voice came out. “He’s right here.”

“I’m not an idiot, I know you’re that - that thing!” 

Ford’s mouth twisted into the most menacing smirk Stan had ever been on the receiving end of. “Oh, I’m much worse.”


	2. Reverse POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: If you dont have any more prompts in your inbox, then maybe you could do this or a continuation in ford's pov

_How could I have been so blind?_ Ford thought. Going down into his old bunker alone was so careless. He had known, he had known the risks and he’d ignored them. Now here he was, without a body and nothing to do about it. 

“Oh, I have missed this puppet,” Bill said, extending his arms and wiggling each finger in turn. “The sixth finger really makes all the difference, you know? Not to mention I bonded much stronger with your vessel than with your skinny little nephew - that kid was a pain! He actually managed to pull me out of his body - can you believe it?! You and I never had that problem.”

Ford’s mind was racing. What was that about his skinny little nephew? Did he mean  _Dipper?_ It made sense. The boy had read Ford’s journals, he had the means … Not to mention Dipper’s personality was exactly like–  _God, this is my fault. I never should have written those damn journals, never should have built that damn portal …_

“Oh and that brother of yours, what a mess!” Cipher continued, demanding Ford’s attention. “30 years of nothing but worrying about  _you,_ driving himself crazy trying to get you back - giving up his life, his name, everything, all so you could come back and pick up where you left off. He practically killed himself for you, and the funniest part is that you couldn’t ‘a cared less!” Bill laughed that horrible laugh of his, the one that had echoed through so many of Ford’s nightmares.  _And now through Dipper’s as well, all because of you. All your fault._

Ford felt 30 years of suppressed paranoia, depression, and anxiety weigh down on him. He’d held it back for so long - in the portal, he’d been able to. In the portal he felt like  _himself_ again. But being back here, back in Gravity Falls, back with  _Bill Cipher,_ everything he thought he had moved past was coming back in violent waves. Ford remembered insanity. He remembered the sleepless nights and the feeling of terror and the constant pressure on the back of his mind - an inability to think clearly or to reason through anything the way that he used to. And now, the fear that it was happening all over again …

“I wonder how long it’ll take your family to come looking for you?” Bill asked. Ford hadn’t spoken a word to him since he took control over his body, and that just wasn’t gonna fly. Bill Cipher thirsted for attention; for the feeling that he had successfully crawled under someone’s skin and reset every nerve in their body two inches to the left. Ford knew this, and was reluctant to give him the satisfaction. Then - 

“Maybe I’ll just have to go to  _them …”_ Bill turned Ford’s body towards the stairs and began to go up them. Ford couldn’t help but notice how gracefully Bill moved when in his body - something about it looked so careless, so  _natural -_ almost like he knew how to move it better than Ford did himself.  _It looks right._

He dismissed that horrifying thought from his mind and floated up after Bill.

Emerging into the woods, Cipher took a deep breath through Ford’s nose and took in his surroundings. “Ah, Gravity Falls. I always liked this town, Stanford.”

“You have my body, Bill,” Ford pleaded, “leave my family alone. They’ve been through enough because of me.”

“You got that right!” Bill exclaimed. Ford was once again haunted by how  _well_ Bill wore him. Somehow years appeared to have disappeared off his face - he looked more like he had the first time he lost control of his own body. “Do you know how messed up those kids are, just after a couple months with your dumb journals? And don’t get me started on your brother - you really were the worst thing that ever happened to the Pines family!” 

Bill laughed again, and Ford found himself retreating a few feet at the sound of it.

Somewhere in the distance, a familiar voice called, “Stanford?”  

_Stanley._

Ford locked eyes with Bill, begging him not to move. Smirking, Bill dashed off towards the shack, moving faster than Ford knew he could. 

“Stop it!” Ford cried, flying through his body. It did nothing, but the action itself was satisfying. Bill crouched down in the bushes, waiting for Stan. 

“Ford! What are you doing out here?” He had come up from behind, and Bill turned towards him - first with his head, then letting his body follow, like some sort of deranged owl. 

Stan took a step back, looking alarmed. “Are you … feeling okay?” 

“Better than ever! In fact, better than I have in thirty years.” 

“Stanley!” Ford shouted, hoping that by some dumb luck there would be a loophole to the whole mindscape thing - if anyone would be able to see/hear him, it should be his twin. 

“Uh - huh. Okay. Well, I’m making mom’s lasagna recipe for supper so–” 

_No, apparently not._

“Do you know what it was  _like_ on the other side of that portal, Stanley?” Bill asked suddenly.

“Cipher, what are you …” Ford began. Why was he pretending to be Ford - what on Earth could he gain from that?

Stan looked instantly offended. He folded his arms over his chest and said,  “No, actually, I don’t. Because you won’t  _tell_ me.”

“Because he doesn’t need to know!” Ford exclaimed, wishing he had use of his hands so he could wrap them around his own Bill-possessed neck.

“Well, I’ll tell you  _this -_ it ain’t pretty! Oh man, the nightmares I still have - of course, I wouldn’t tell you about those either. About all the times I woke up down in the basement in a cold sweat, terrified that all of this had been the dream, and I was still  _there._ You know that the portal doesn’t just lead to  _one_ other dimension, right? There are infinitely many - and each one more horrific than the last. I had completely given up hope I’d ever get rescued. I was so sure you had given up on me …” 

“That’s not true, Stanley, don’t listen to him!” Ford was right in front of his brother, but that didn’t change the fact that Stan could not see or hear him. 

“You did take your sweat time rebuilding that portal. Were there too many distractions in the town? Too many trips to Vegas? Too many nieces and nephews coming to stay?–”

“Ford, hey –” 

 _It’s not me, please know that it’s not me …_ But he didn’t. That was the worst part of all - Stan really  _believed_ it was Ford saying those things. That it was within the range of possibility for Ford to actually feel that way towards the brother who had saved his life.

 _Think, Stanford, you have to think._ What could he do? This wasn’t like the last time, he didn’t have a lab assistant around to save him. Hell, no one even knew he was being possessed!  _The shack. Dipper’s a smart kid he’d be able to figure it out, he’s read the journals he knows what to do._ No, no more involving the children. Ford wouldn’t put them in further danger. Maybe that Soos guy … No, that was no good either.  _Think, Ford,_ damn it!

“I’m talking about you, brother!” Cipher exclaimed. Ford had lost track of their conversation, but he could still tell when Bill was baiting. He was waiting for Stan to explode - to attack him. But what for?

“Our whole lives you’ve been nothing but the dumber, sweatier version of me!”

“Stan, he’s just trying to piss you off!”

“Without me around, you don’t know what to do - you can’t even be your own person, you had to take  _my_ name. Stanley Pines doesn’t exist anymore because he was too much of a codependent baby to deal with his own mistakes and grow as a person.”

“That’s not true, you know that’s not true!”

“No, he had to become someone else - to play the role of the brother he so desperately needed to lead him, even as an adult. Pathetic.” 

Stan socked him in the jaw. Cipher grinned, finally getting the fight he’d been craving.  “You came close to knocking out a tooth that time - and I’ve always taken such good care of my teeth! That’s impressive Stan. You can almost do something right for once.”

Stan punched him again, this time hard on the side. “What are you  _doing,_ Stanford?” 

There was doubt in that question - Stan was starting to catch on. He knew Ford wouldn’t do this, he had to know that.

“I’m just talking! That’s brothers do, don’t they?” Cipher asked. “They talk things out - Dipper and Mabel talk things out - at least they used to. Poor kids, the man they put all their faith in turned out to be nothing but a huge liar - even to  _them,_ the kids he claims to love so much. It’s no wonder the little brats are starting to develop trust issues - they don’t know who they can believe.” 

Stan hit him so hard he fell flat on the ground.

“Run, Stanley!” Ford shouted, trying to get between his brother and himself. “This is what he wants!”  _This is what he wants._ Right. Because it was never about baiting Stan - Bill was doing this to Ford. He was going to break Stan’s heart, then murder him. The violence wasn’t enough, he had to make it worse. To make Ford watch as Stan  _hated_ him; as he thought he was being murdered by his own brother. This was Bill’s revenge for all those years ago, the twisted bastard. 

Bill smiled with blood-stained teeth. “That’s what you do best, isn’t it? Stan Pines’ claim to fame - pushing the people he loves away! Dipper, Mabel, Mom, Dad,  _Carla_  - hell, even your own twin couldn’t stand to be around you after the first 18 years!”

“Shut up!” Stan got down on top of Ford, the way they used to wrestle as kids. The only difference now was that Stan was the only one fighting. Bill was just taking it - which scared Ford, because it meant he was waiting for something. 

“He didn’t care that you were all alone those 10 years - he was glad to be rid of you! You were nothing but a leech all your lives - from the moment you were born all you could do was ride off your brother’s brain. You probably can’t even tie your own shoes.”

“That’s … that’s not true.” Ford’s voice softened. It  _wasn’t_ true, but hearing it made him realize that Stan probably thought it was. That’s why he hadn’t realized it was Bill yet - Stan had spent the last 30 years expecting Ford to hate him. Everything Bill had said was something Stan had already feared - and that’s how Cipher was winning.

 “But, I guess at the end of the day, you were still brothers. After ten long years, you got that postcard. And what do you find? A broken brother in the midst of some kind of mental breakdown. And what did  _you do_ Stan Pines? You pushed him into a goddamn hell portal! You damned him to 30 years of suffering and pain! Ever wonder why he wears a sweater in the summer, huh? It’s too hide all the scars! Every bite, every bullet, every sword - and that’s just the external stuff. Boy, if these memories could speak …” 

Stan paused.  _“_ Stanford what the hell’s the  _matter with  you?!”_  Ford watched as realization dawned on his brother’s face. Stan jumped to his feet, alert.

“Yes!” he cheered. 

“You must be that shape-shifter thing–”  

“No,” Ford groaned. “Oh, Stanley, come on …”

“I read about you! What the hell did you do with my brother?” Stan demanded. 

Bill rose back up to his feet, gracefully. “He’s right here.” It wasn’t a lie. 

“I’m not an idiot, I know you’re that - that thing!” 

Cipher grinned. “Oh, I’m much worse.”

Ford was struck with a very awful idea. When Bill began to advance towards Stan, eyes glowing and hands enveloped in blue flame, he knew what he had to do. 

Stan wasn’t just his brother, he was his twin. There had been a time when they were so close, they might as well have been the same person. Ford hoped all these years later, that still counted for something. He floated forward  _into_ Stan, praying silently that his theory was correct. 

“W-what?” Bill stammered. His hands went out, and his expression was one of genuine confusion. 

Ford tried to move Stan’s limbs experimentally, and found to his delight that they worked exactly like his own. 

“How are you -  _no!_ No, that’s not how this works!”

 _Well,_ Ford thought,  _I’ve finally stumped you._ Using Stan’s hands, he reached into his own coat pocked and produced the knife he always kept there.  _So this is what it feels like to have a normal number of fingers … Huh._  Quickly, before Bill could process what was going on, Ford stabbed the knife through his stomach and pulled it upwards, tearing apart his torso.

“You can’t possess a dead puppet, Cipher,” he said through his brother’s mouth. 

“NO!” Bill screamed, his eyes flashing red. He tried to hold on, to heal his vessel - but it was no use. Ford’s body was dead, or close enough to it. Cipher tumbled out, a triangle again, and Ford’s body fell back to the ground, lifelessly. 

 _I’m sorry, Stan,_ Ford thought, hoping his brother would hear him now. He turned his brother’s body away from the gorey mess that was left of his own, and released his hold on Stan’s body, floating out the same way Bill had.

“WHAT THE HELL?!” Stan shouted, coming back into his own. He felt like he’d just blacked out - yet no time had passed. It was still dark, just as dark as it had been before. For a second there he could have sworn he heard his brother in his head, but then–

There was blood on his hands.

Why was there blood on his hands?


End file.
